One of my heroes is the writer, speaker, businessman, and sustainability activist, Paul Hawken. I first saw him speak over twenty years ago; a talk that it would be no exaggeration to say changed my life. For one thing, he closed with a Rumi poem that, in that moment, felt like it had been written for me.
He brings a rare mix of realism about how our civilization is wrecking our only home, this planet, and hope that we can turn things around: Continue reading
“There has never been a time when you and I have not existed. Nor will there ever be a time when we will cease to be. Therefore, play the role you are meant to, right now.” ~ Bhagavad-Gita
This reminds me of a story I heard from Kevin Locke, a Lakota Hoop dancer, at the National Storytelling Festival about ten years ago. It has stayed with me all this time as much for its central message as for his mastery in conveying it.
He performed for an hour, playing his flute, telling stories, and demonstrating some basic dance patterns. His account of learning the Hoop dance frequently visits to remind me of this truth: I am here to do my part. Here is the story, with some details and names from his website; much of it is from memory: Continue reading
One of the most insidious effects of perfectionism is its power to shut down creativity and paralyze action. There’s a wonderful book called “Daring Greatly,” by Brené Brown, the Texas sociology professor whose TED talks on vulnerability went viral a few years back. The title comes from this remark by Teddy Roosevelt in a speech he gave in 1910:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
For the third of this seasonal series, here is a bit of writing that emerged during last year’s Advent Restorying retreat. The beginning of the first sentence is a prompt, called a “story stem.” More on that at the bottom, if you want to try story stem writing. It’s a great way to dive into the depths of memory and emotion, past even that into the stream of archetypal consciousness that flows beneath us all.
I am a child at Christmas and everything is magical. We gather to trim the tree, laughing at the “scary” ornament — a rusty, wire-screen encased odd thing from Mom’s childhood.
History, deep connection with past generations, past Christmases.
We still use tinsel and enjoy tossing great handfuls of it on the fragrant boughs of the tree. There’s an actual, recently-alive tree in our living room.
Now it has lights twinkling in it. Those big, colorful bulbs that go off if one of them burns out. Continue reading
To be well engaged in work takes discipline. I need a routine, a way to concentrate and tune out distractions. Work at its best, the attention and focus, is a kind of prayer. Mary Oliver says it well:
“I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, . . .”
This attention is a crossing-over from multitasking non-presence into an eternal place of connection. A place where I feel well employed, using all my senses, including imagination. The ears of my heart tune in and listen with devotion. Continue reading
About twenty-two hours into Charles Lindbergh’s famous nonstop solo Atlantic crossing, having endured hours of fatigue and boredom, he was visited by the distinct feeling that there were a number of ghostly presences in his plane with him. This story is one of many fascinating encounters with the “third man” from John Geiger’s 2009 book, “The Third Man Factor.”
Lindbergh, of course, had his own understanding of their identities and purpose, and felt perfectly comfortable with their company. As I read, I thought how cool it would be if they were the ancestors of the invention of flight: Daedalus and Icarus, DaVinci, the Mongolfier brothers, Ferdinand von Zeppelin, Wenham, Ader, Maxim, Langley, and the Wright brothers. They would be crowded in there with him, celebrating his grand achievement and guiding him to a successful crossing. Who better to understand the trial of grueling endurance before Lindberg reached his goal? It was a shared victory. Continue reading
Former Poet Laureate Billy Collins has quipped that poetry will continue until everything has been compared to everything else. I like to play with that in design and writing, to bring in something seemingly unrelated and let it illuminate a previously invisible aspect of the subject. It’s one of the joys of collaborating with other people – their contributions always open a door into new possibilities.
Comparison reveals hidden connections. The poet Pablo Neruda’s view of art has been described as coming out of a longing for mutuality. Isn’t that what poets do so well? Rilke asks a knight to tell us how, by remaining armored, we miss out on the beauties and joys of the world. Or he erects a bridge to give us a way to move between contrasting (possibly warring) aspects of ourselves, especially to try out our little-used qualities. Continue reading
I’ve been listening to a great TED Radio Hour on the theme of creativity. In one segment, the host interviewed a scientist at Johns Hopkins University, Charles Limb, who is researching the source of creativity by studying jazz musicians’ brains with an MRI while they improvise.
Keith Jarrett apparently improvises whole concerts; he just sits at the piano and channels music. He said he has, from long experience, an intimate relationship with the piano and even now he never knows what will come out. He considers it a great joy and privilege to be that channel.
One fascinating thing the Hopkins researcher found was that the prefrontal cortex shuts off during these improvisations. Continue reading
Last week, a tech entrepreneur announced the OS Fund, offering $100 million of his own money to the best and brightest startups that want to change the world by designing a better future. Sounds exciting, right? Their manifesto says it straight:
“In order to affect real change for humanity at a global scale, we need to think and operate on a fundamental level: the operating system.”
Yes, I thought, he’s onto something. It’s another way of saying we need a new story. This is a compelling perspective:
“Historically, germ theory, American democracy and the Internet rewrote the operating systems of healthcare, governance and our societal infrastructure.”
Can’t argue with that. As I read further, though, I realized this wasn’t about a new OS at all. It’s about fancy new software. An arms race of software, like those fat seats and giant cupholders in American cars. Continue reading
“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.” ~ Albert Einstein
As an off the scale intuitive on the Meyers-Briggs chart, I can relate to this. I frequently act on feelings or ideas that draw me out ahead of my ability to explain them to others. In practicing and teaching architecture, I learned that it’s a good discipline to be able to toggle between the two.
Intuition is a wellspring of creativity. When designing a building, I would sometimes get into a trance-like state and just let the ideas keep coming. Continue reading